The Master That Never Was
by Ratin8tor
Summary: What if the Master didn't choose not to regenerate at the end of 'The Last of the Time Lords? What if he had run out of regenerations? What would the Master do about this during the Year that Never Was?
1. The Third Master

It was only after the golden glow disappeared did the Master understand the Doctor's intolerance towards pears. Admittedly he never knew that they were that poisonous, but maybe it was just a unique quirk of his particular physiology.

Nevertheless it was only his third body. He had ten regenerations left, ever since he reset his body to zero after the events of the Time War. Besides, it was a fairly good body. Dark hair, darker eyes, a somewhat muscular frame. Yes, this sort of body would do well when it came to striking an opposing figure.

… Unfortunately he forget to tell his guards about his ability to regenerate. To their credit, they were incredibly loyal to his cause, and followed protocol to the letter.


	2. The Fourth Master

Fortunately they didn't fire at him again after the regeneration past, otherwise it'd have been even more awkward. The Master rose, eyes glowing with rage, as he planned to execute the guards and their families. Carefully, much how one would explain something to a toddler, the Master explained how he regenerated, how his body changed when it was near death, and how the buffoons had just cost him two regenerations. The men looked at each other, knowing they'd signed their death warrants, and quickly threw themselves to their knees to beg for forgiveness. The Master complied, only shrinking three of them to the size of dolls. Good labour was hard to come by, after all.

Still, with the nature of regeneration properly explained to his staff, he knew that the worst of it was behind him.


	3. The Fifth Master

It was a shame, then, that no one had bothered to tell the Toclafane about his ability to regenerate. Fortunately, they too learned the errors of their ways, and saved it from being even more bothersome. His body was older than before, a fact that annoyed him ever so slightly. With white, curly hair and a rather thin face, he didn't strike the level of threat he had in other incarnations. Never mind. The people would learn to fear him.

At least, that was the plan, anyway. After explaining to the population about why his face had changed, he continued his parade through New York uninterrupted, basking in the false joy the people had for him. He knew they were being forced to celebrate his glory via gunpoint, but if he put that thought out of his head, he could truly believe that the people loved him.


	4. The Sixth Master

His first thought coming to was that he was going to figure out who threw the bomb and punish them with extreme prejudice. The second thought was how itchy his new nose was. He went to scratch it and...

"Where are my arms?" growled the Master with a fury that would have melted steel.

"There were complications with the regeneration process, my master," said one of his doctors, a cowardly little man who'd throw a child to the lions if it meant he'd live for a little longer. "The damage was quite extensive. You did die, if only for a few moments. Fortunately we managed to trigger your renewal, but the energy required meaning you loss some mass..."

The Master glared at the doctor, fantasizing about strangling the man, the life slowly draining from his eyes. He briefly wondered whether he could get his associate to do it... no, it wouldn't be the same. Still, the Master was patient, he could wait. He'd get his chance. He may be armless, but he was far, far from harmless.


	5. The Seventh Master

He was, however, not quite use to walking without arms. It was a fact that came readily apparent when he suddenly found himself toppling down the stairs, unable to catch himself on the railing. He tumbled down the stairs painfully, briefly becoming aware that he had broken his neck. The regeneration process began before he even hit the final step, but he couldn't complain too much as he used his newly formed arms to lift himself back up. There were, however, slight drawbacks.

"Why do I look like a child?" growled the Master in a squeaky, uneven voice of a boy going through puberty.

"Well, in order for your arms to grow back, mass had to be redistributed elsewhere," said the cowardly doctor, but before he could finish his explanation, the master was on top of him. He gripped the doctor's throat, squeezing it as hard as he could. It was only after the twenty-minute mark did he realize that he lacked the proper strength to truly leave an impact. The doctor was suffering, sure, but it was clear he wasn't going to asphyxiate any time soon.

The Master let out an exhausted sigh and got back to work running his empire. Sure, he was a child, but Time Lords grew fast. In a few months he'd be back to normal size, and then he could truly begin getting his revenge.


	6. The Eighth Master

"How did the prisoner get a gun?" growled the Master, vowing to get his revenge on the good Captain Jack later by really testing the limits of his immortality.

"I'm sorry sir," said one of the guards. "He managed to disarm one of us. It won't happen again!"

"It most certainly won't," said the Master, as he got off the floor. Another regeneration so soon. How many was that in so many months? He was running out of patience.

He turned to the guard, getting ready to inflict a world of torment, when he saw a strange look crossing over the guard. It was almost... bemusement. The Master had seen his victims express a range of emotions before, but never did they seem to be so happy.

It was just the one guard. All the others seemed to be trying to stifle their giggles. The Master scowled and stomped out of the prison cell, looking for a mirror. Along the way he saw the confused looks of guards, some of whom seemed to be tickled fancy by their master's new face.

Eventually he found a mirror and looked at his new body properly for the first time. White hair, white fluffy beard, warm loving eyes, red nose. No no no, this would not do at all! Add to that the fact that he was far, far larger than he had been before, and the whole thing just looked... jovial.

It hit the Master just why everyone was laughing at him. In what was a cruel twist of fate, he looked the spitting image of that insipid Santa Claus. The Master fumed, deciding that the first thing he was going to do was outlaw Christmas, if only to stamp the comparisons out. Still, he mused, it can't get any worst.


	7. The Ninth Master

"So what do we call you now?" sniggered Leo. "Mistress?"

The Master briefly contemplated about killing the man, but decided it would be more fun to do it in front of his sister (who, despite his best efforts, still seemed to be evading his grasp). Instead he strode out the room, ignoring the control panel that had electrocuted him and caused this to happen in the first place.

If 'he' was still the right term anyway. As much as he didn't like it, he was in a woman's body now. He briefly considered the pronoun problem she was facing. Would she be a 'they', or would he still be a 'he' because that's what she had always been.

No matter. Man or woman, black or white, the Master was the Master. Yes, it slightly ruined the statue being built of him, but at this point it was better to just leave it be. He could always get another one built later.

Still, a woman. It was fine. Yes, he used up seven of his regenerations in under nine months, but he still had four more bodies left to go. As long as he was careful, and she thought about what she was doing, they would have no more problems.


	8. The Tenth Master

It quickly became clear to the Master that something was amiss. He was never this careless before, and now he was dying from something as simple as a car crash. True, he blamed the idiot driver he was with, and regretted that this Arthur Williams fellow had died on impact. An examination of the vehicle revealed the brakes had been sabotaged, and that it wasn't just an accident. Still, he was alright, though the fact he was now black was something new to him. Not that it really mattered, to be honest. He was the Master, same as he always been. And nothing was going to change that.


	9. The Eleventh Master

The face staring back at him was one he'd seen many times before. It just wasn't his face. It was the Doctor's, specifically that of his third incarnation. He was the spitting image of it. He mused briefly, wondering if whether there were just a limited amount of faces in Gallifrey, thinking back to all the doubles he had happen to see in his time there. Or maybe there was a limited amount of faces in the universe.

The Master tried to ignore his appearance, to go about his day, but every time he looked in the mirror there he was. The Doctor, staring at him. How he regenerated into the Doctor he did not know, but he could hardly stand seeing that big-nosed git looking back at him with every opportunity. Despite banning all mirrors, despite demanding that there be no reflective surfaces anywhere in the ship, he still saw the Doctor. He saw him in the reflection of Lucy's eyes every time he went in for a kiss. No matter where he went, the Doctor was there, looking at him.


	10. The Twelfth Master

It was almost a relief when he was shot again, this time by a guard who had decided to be a hero. All those goody two-shoes feelings gone, he was free to be back to his usual self. It was with great delight that he murdered the man, ripping him to shreds with his bare hands.

All was not right with the Master though, as he learned in the coming days. Something had gone wrong with this regeneration. His past incarnations, usually dormant memories in his head, were now crowding his every thought, pulling him in every direction. Every version of him, from both his regeneration cycles, from all the times he tried to escape death, they all started to scream at him and try to take control of his mind. As he struggled to stay in control he realized why Rassalion had put the twelve-regeneration limit on the Time Lords in the first place. Live too long, and even a Gallifreyan mind struggles to keep itself together. He tried to keep his cool, but often meetings with his underlings were interrupted with his madness. It was almost as if his head was going to explode!


	11. The Final Master

Thirteen. Thirteen bodies, eleven of which had been within the last year. He'd managed to go through an entire regeneration cycle during his time on Earth. Fortunately for him he'd managed to regenerate back into the appearance of his second incarnation. As far as the wider world was concerned, nothing had changed.

But the Master knew that things had changed. They were far more drastic than before. Now, more than ever, it was imperative for him to find a way to resurrect his body again, create followers that will fulfil the ritual and give him new life if this body failed him. He'd been planning it for a while, and soon it would be complete.

He hadn't seen the Doctor in some of his regenerations... did the Doctor know his limit was up, or did he still think that he could regenerate? Still, it was no matter. It had been a year since he'd taken power, and he had Martha Jones in his grasp. If nothing else, he would have his revenge. And all this wouldn't have been for nothing.


End file.
